Mix It Up
by cassgrl087
Summary: a fic with NO JAM FLUFF! The day after Casino Night, Michael informs the office that for the upcoming Dunder Mifflin mixer, they will be attending dance lessons. Jim hasn't transfered. WIP. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

"Conference room everybody!" Michael called everyone out of their workspaces. Dwight was the only one standing as everyone else rolled their eyes or ignored Michael altogether. "I know you had a big night last night…Meredith," he nodded to the redhead who was passed out in her chair, head sagging off her shoulder, "but I'm glad you didn't let any hangovers keep you from Ye olde Dunder Miff!" He stretched his arms, walking like a zombie for no apparent reason. He took a seat on Jim's desk, who muttered a goodbye to whomever he was talking to and looking up at Michael, pursing his lips in a tight, closed smile. "Anything exciting happen to you last night Jimbo? Win some money? Get a girlfriend?"  
"No." Jim replied humorlessly. He stared at Michael blankly who stared back with a glare usually reserved for when he spoke with Toby.

"Conference room!" He said, standing. Pam stood up from her desk and straightened her kaki skirt. She pushed hair behind her ear as she walked silently past Jim, smiling sympathetically. Jim sighed and stood, glancing into the camera as he entered the conference room, taking a seat in the back, sandwiched between Kevin and Ryan.

"Big call this morning, not from Jan, but from someone above Jan," Michael said, "well not literally," he laughed, waiting for someone to get the joke. "That's what she said! Get it?" He turned to the camera. "Above Jan?"

"I thought you and Jan had a thing?" said Kelly. Michael laughed, obviously pleased.

"We did. Used to. History. Put it in the past. Locked it up and threw away the key. That was before I got a girlfriend." He looked significantly into the camera, eyebrows raised.

"Did you bring us in here to talk about your girlfriend?" Angela asked him, who was seated next to Pam.

"Uh, no." Michael said. "The call was from the super elite corporate guys, or who I like to call them – A-holes. Just kidding!" He looked into the camera, suddenly serious. "Kidding. Really. I respect them. I like this job." He paused.

"As you all know, the annual Dunder Mifflin Company mixer is coming up…great chances to have Dunder Mifflin incestuous relationships!" He rubbed his hands together. "that is, unless you already have an office relationship," he eyed Pam, who usually would have blushed but continued to stare at her shoes. "But this year, no more boring, droning lectures about paper…but music and people and dances!"

No one looked especially pleased.

"It's a party! All the paper guys! And since we, well, mostly me, pulled off Casino Night…they want your input on what to do!" Michael held up a stack of papers. "Surveys. Fill them out, give them to me and I will fax them over," his voice got slower, "one by one…to Corporate…you know what, give them to Dwight. He will fax them." Dwight grinned at the responsibility. "Pam, pass these out?" The camera panned over as she shrugged and shook her head, staring blankly at the forms still in Michael's hands.

"Question: will we be required to bring dates?" Dwight shot a significant look to Angela, who was suddenly very interested in her fingernails. Kelly was smiling brightly in Ryan's direction and Jim was staring at his feet.

"Absolutely." Michael announced.

----

"_Yeah, I'm excited," said Michael. "I already downloaded videos of new dance moves so I can impress some people. I already know the Macarena." He jumped out of his seat and began to sing, his arms moving wildly around his body. "Oh Macarena Macarena Macaroni, Oh Mambolena, Markalisa, and tony…it goes something like that." He took his hands off his hips and sat down._

---

"_Ohmigosh, I'm like so excited. I've waited for forever to try out those new moves Beyonce does on her new video with Jay Z…I look really good at it. Really good. Ryan will love it." Kelly grinned into the camera. _

---

_Angela's stared into the camera, hair pushed severely into a bun. _

"_I don't dance."_

---

"And because of the dancing and how formal this is going to be, I've decided to give you guys a treat. We're going to have ballroom dancing lessons!" Kelly was the only one who reacted, clapping her hands joyously.

"Was this approved by corporate?" Toby asked.

"Yes." Michael said too quickly. "Well, no. Kind of." He furrowed his eyebrows. "How about you don't worry about it. And good luck finding a dance partner. You're divorced." Toby rolled his eyes and sat back down.

"When are we leaving?"

"Today. After lunch. Get your work done people because soon you will be getting your dance on!" He pumped his fists. "Even you, Creed," who snored so loud that he woke up.

"Huh?"

---

"_Am I excited for the party?" Jim asked, his hair looking more ruffled than usual. "No. But I'll get to meet the guys who I'll be working with when I transfer, so yeah, kind of." The camera guy murmured something to which Jim replied, "yeah. 'when.' Not 'if'. I'm leaving after I return from Australia." He nodded for finality and stood up to leave. _

---

"_This is actually a really good idea," said Pam's talking head. "I mean the dancing lessons. I've wanted to learn how to dance for forever…for the wedding…" She stopped talking. The camera man asked her a question. "What?" she asked with suspicion. "Of course the wedding's still on…what do you know about last night?" _

**--- **

"Oh yeah," Michael said, coming out of his office. "We're carpooling to the dance stude-jo. No sense in all of us taking our own cars! Gas prices. So who wants to drive?" No one volunteered. Dwight raised his hand unusually high.

"I'll take my car. It fits four."

"Gross, Dwight, your car is disgusting." Michael said.

"No its not. We got that dead chipmunk out forever ago." He nodded at the camera. Pam scrunched her nose.

"Fine," Michael said. "I'll drive. I can take Ryan, Jim and…" he searched the room for someone worthy of his car. "Pam. Three others go in Dwights and everyone else can go in Meredith's van." He turned to walk away. "Though someone else might want to drive," he added as an afterthought. Phyllis turned to look at Meredith, drooling in her sleep, and quickly turned away.

---

"_At least I don't have to ride with Kelly," said Ryan. "Maybe I could sprain my ankle and wouldn't have to dance…" _

---

"_Who will I dance with?" Dwight asked. "Let's just say I have someone in mind…" _

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	2. Chapter 2

**khaki? khaki. khaki. khaki.**

"You are about to enter a piece of history," Michael said to a bored looking Ryan, Jim, and Pam. "This is where Michael Scott went from a boy to a man," he informed the camera.

"It means he kissed a girl," Jim said to Ryan under his breath, who grinned.

"Last week," Ryan added as they both laughed. The camera found Pam, who was standing on Jim's other side, not knowing whether to smile or pretend she didn't hear the joke that wasn't meant for her.

"Um, Michael? Can't I ride with Roy?" Pam asked hopefully as Michael unlocked his door and Jim walked to the opposite side of the car.

"Yeahhh..no," he said, squinting into the sun. He fell into the front seat. Pam leaned in to the window. "Ryan, you get shotgun!"

"Why?" Pam persisted.

"Because I get to pick who's in shotgun because I'm the driver," Michael said.

"Not that," she said anxiously, "Why doesn't Roy get to go?"

"Well…I only have enough money for us. Besides, they're all guys and it would mess up the balance. Boys dancing with boys…" he glanced into the camera. "But they're queer as folk! Get it?" he laughed as Ryan climbed into the front seat. "Don't stop, get it, get it!"

"So Roy's not coming?" Pam was still leaning into Michael's window.

"Just get in," Jim said irritably from the backseat as he put in the earbuds for his iPod.

----

"Welcome! I understand this is the Dunder Mifflin group?" said the petite dance instructor, who was tan and had an indistinguishable accent.

"Yes. Yes!" Michael pushed his way to the front of his group. "I'm Michael Scott, manager."

"It's nice to meet you." She shook his hand and turned quickly away.

"Now let's get started. Dancing is a form of expression," she said, turning to the group who stood in a semi-circle. "It's an art form. It ranges from intensely romantic…like the Tango…to reserved, like the ballroom steps we'll be doing today. The main thing to remember is to-"

"Not step on your partner's foot!" Michael butted in. "Learned that the hard way! Not good. Do not do that…"

"Yes," said the instructor patiently, "But above all, remember to-"

"Have grace!" Michael interrupted. He arranged his limbs into what he assumed was a ballerina pose. "Like a ballerina." The instructor shook her head. "Look good?" He guessed. She shook her head again. "Have the right partner?" In the background, the camera could see Jim smirking, the first sign of life he'd shown all day. "Above all, dance like no ones watching!" Michael guessed.

"How about you let me say it?" The instructor asked. She placed a manicured hand on his arm.

"Uh, alright. Okay." Michael took a step back.

"Above all, don't hold back. Feel your emotions move your body. Feel the music. Love the music. Love the dance!" She finished dramatically. Michael and Dwight began to applaud. "Everyone should grab a partner!"

-----

_"Feel my emotions?" Said Stanley. "The only emotion I'm feeling right now is annoyance with not closing my sale." He folded his arms across his chest._

-----

Kelly had had a tight grip on Ryan's elbow since the parking lot. He didn't look her in the eye.

Phyllis and Stanley paired off while Kevin looked sideways at Meredith, who was downing Advil. Dwight was trying to inconspicuously step toward Angela, who was to his immediate right. She looked both parts pleased and nervous. The rest of the office mates found pairs rather quickly, probably because they wanted to get it over with.

"Be my partner?" Pam asked Jim, who was looking standoffish with his hands in his pockets.

"Where's Roy?" He asked with a bite to his voice. She shook her head.

"Warehouse didn't come…?" She bit her lip as most of the people in the room were watching them, ready to dance. The instructor was telling them where to place their hands. "Please." She said quietly, looking into the camera and quickly looking away. Jim swallowed and took Pam's hand, putting on a fake smile for the camera. Pam looked over Jim's shoulder and at the instructor.

The dance instructor was partnered with Michael, who looked pleased. She began to teach the standard ballroom moves and the students were either grudgingly following the instructions or talking loudly and dancing with excitement (sometimes a mix of both, like Ryan, who was limply holding Kelly's hand, and Kelly who was grinning and chatting loudly with anyone who was within a few feet.)

"You're a good dancer," the camera caught Pam saying to Jim, who was effortlessly leading Pam in a series of spins. He covered up a smile with a cough. "I'm sorry about last night," she said in a very small, quiet voice. Jim danced them further away from the cameras but refused to look Pam in the eye. "You were right…you didn't misinterpret..." she paused, looking for the lens and continued more quietly, "our friendship." Jim was looking away and the cameras zoomed, searching for a glint of moisture in his eyes. "It made me rethink everything about Roy," Jim looked down at Pam and opened his mouth to speak, but

the view of Pam and Jim was interrupted by Dwight and Angela – who were standing unusually straight and were at least a ruler's length apart. He was easily a head taller than Angela, which made them look even more awkward.

"I'm pleased you don't have two left feet, Dwight," Angela said in a restrained voice. His hand was resting very, very lightly on her back.

"You're graceful yourself," he replied in a professional manner. But his hand gripped her hip a little closer.

By the time the cameras returned to Jim and Pam, they were both smiling.

---

_"Yeah, I'm a pretty good dancer," Jim smiled into the camera. "Think it impressed anyone?" _

--

"Look at Michael," Jim said under his breath, smiling. He turned so Pam could see. He kept stepping on the instructor's feet, who kept saying "Ow," which made Michael say sorry.

"Stomp, Ow, Sorry! Stomp, Ow, Sorry!" Jim chanted, grinning. "Forget ballroom, it's tribal dancing." They laughed.

There was a pause. Pam looked up at Jim.

"So, we're okay?" Jim looked into her eyes, the first time he'd done so since last night.

"I'm transferring." He told her. He stepped forward to continue dancing but she stood, frozen in place.

--

_"Dance lessons kind of bombed," Michael said into the camera. "The instructor was pretty, but not a lot of brains behind that blonde hair. Not how I'm used to dancing," he shook his head. "but I'm sure it improved our company's morale. We all get along. We're loyal We're like a team. A big, dancing, team. We're like riverdancers. Except we're not from Russia. And we don't wear wood for shoes."_


End file.
